


Big Houses

by soul_of_blaze



Series: Of Hobbits and Dwarves [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Dís, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/soul_of_blaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Despite her not actually appearing in the Tolkienverse, I REALLY am in love with Dis in general. The song that inspired this is Big Houses by Squalloscope. </p><p>Basically: sometimes I think about how in canon Dis loses her sons and remaining brother, and it makes me beyond sad. I wanted to write something where she doesn't sooo.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Big Houses

**Author's Note:**

> Despite her not actually appearing in the Tolkienverse, I REALLY am in love with Dis in general. The song that inspired this is Big Houses by Squalloscope. 
> 
> Basically: sometimes I think about how in canon Dis loses her sons and remaining brother, and it makes me beyond sad. I wanted to write something where she doesn't sooo.

The regality of Dwarves was not as grand as Elves, which could be told with a glance between the two (and any common Elf might look far more regal than a Dwarf-King to a Man). And as Dís came upon the scene of Erebor, she did not shy from the looks the Mirkwood Elves shot her, but continued on and up to the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps it was the beard that threw them off, though it was more likely that she had few feminine qualities about her. Had anyone bothered to ask her what she thought, her reply would have been along the lines of, "Well, what do you expect? _They_ all look like Elf lasses." But no one did, partly due to the fact that the Elves lingering did not care to approach her and the Dwarves were more interested in greeting one remaining of the Durin line.

Yet, as they approached Erebor, Dáin forced her to pause and looked upon his cousin for long moments. 

"What is it?" She asked at last, bringing one of her hands to fiddle with her beard. They had been traveling together since she had run into him on her way from the Blue Mountains, called upon by Dwalin and Balin to see her way back to her once home. There was minimal excitement in her, however, as she had little to no memory of Erebor. Together, the two gazed upon the Lonely Mountain as a Man busied by them.

"Ye must remember, cousin, that we no idea of what has gone on there, who is alive or not," Dáin's words were chosen carefully; though she picked up quickly on what he was trying to tell her. Her eyes dropped slightly, thinking of her sons and then, her brother. "No report on Thorin or yer boys, take it for what hope it might have."

With those words weighing on her shoulders, the Dwarf followed her cousin up and toward the mountain that had once been home to many of her kinfolk. The battlefield, they hit it first, and she could not pause though as she stepped over bodies it was hard not to. Dwarves and Elves were easier to pick out than Men, though even the Orcs were as well easy to see. Her eyes darkened considerably, though various healers' tents had been set up closer to the base of the mountain. Dís' hope rested on those, that her sons and brother may be in them. Thoughts lingered on Fíli, her eldest son who looked so much like his father it had been painful to look upon him as he grew, and then shifted to Kíli, who had left her with no beard on his face and she wondered if would even have one.

Thorin, though, was where her thoughts ended up lingering the most. She could not lose but one of them, for she would be devastated by each loss. If her brother was alive, well, Dís would have that at least. It was the safest route for now, to see him or be handed the news of his peril.

A quick goodbye and then Dáin had disappeared from her side, toward figures in the distance that must have been Balin and Dwalin. Eventually, Dís was able to straighten herself up, bear her shoulders back and head toward a pair of figures making their way up to Erebor. But as she came closer, neither was Dwarf and one was an Elf, though she could not place what the other was but he was around Dwarven height, albeit a bit smaller in other size. (And she could tell from here that his face must be as bare as an Elf's!)

Westron did not hold high on her list of spoken languages, considering she never had any reason to use it and though she did not falter in using it, the way the Elf and other creature looked back at her in surprise suggested that it came out unpleasantly. 

Communication would not go well if this was to be a downfall.

Undaunted, she cleared her throat again, "Halt. I must have words with one of you," and her eyes stayed on the halfling for the time, not feeling to look upon the Elf. Her dislike of them may not have been strong as Thorin's but it was there. "Immediately."

When the Elf shot her a look that said they would rather have died during the battle than talk to her, she simply raised one of her brows and then directed, with a nod, to the halfling, "Then, my words shall be with you. Come."

Dís gave no indication that he had choice in the matter, and for part of the walk up into the mountain, the halfling stayed on her feet until he seemed to grow comfortable enough to travel at her side. She looked down on him, at his bare face and furry feet, with interest. Had she been raised less proper, a bit ruder, she might have asked what he was, but she was not and until they were inside Erebor, she said nothing. This seemed to cause him panic, though not enough to turn him around from her.

"Who are you?" 

"Ah," his voice was little, a bit shy and she thought he squeaked before he gathered himself up. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service," and still, he stuttered slightly over his words as if unsure of himself. 

"Master Baggins," Dís said, turning to look at him now. Surprisingly, he did not shrink away from her like she expected him to. "What are you doing here?"

"So.. sorry?" Bilbo looked concerned now, fingers fiddling with something in his pocket. A small urge to scold him and slap his hands from fiddling caught her for a moment, and it reminded her of when Fíli used to steal daggers and hide them, for he knew he was not allowed to have them. She shook it off as quick as she could, focusing on thoughts of her brother. As she continued to frown at him, he stood up as tall as he could, though it did little for him. "I accompanied the thirteen Dwarves on their quest to take back the Lonely Mountain, as a burglar," then as if he felt guilty for being that, "Not that I am, really, I'm just a simple Hobbit, I assure you."

"Hm," Dís responded, looking amused as she turned to look upon Erebor. It was not grand, not at the moment, with rubble and wreckage. Her brother would be furious to see its state, though maybe he was already working on restoration. Thoughts of her sons and their uncle working around bubbled up, happy but causing her great grief. She did not know if that would ever be a reality. "I see, burglar hobbit," and the halfling looked ready to protest her statement, "I desire to see my..." The word in Westron escaped her. She muttered it under her breath, too quiet for him to hear and then cursed, frustrated. Her only reply from Bilbo was a confused noise. "I cannot recall the word."

"Afraid I don't know anything about what you just said," Bilbo's face was less confused, a sheepish grin on his face. Dís watched him for a long time, then, processing what she knew. The halfling before her, the hobbit, had come here with a company of thirteen Dwarves. Or, Thorin and his company as she could well guess. 

"Take me to see the King," she demanded, suddenly and it spooked him into dropping his hand from his pocket. "I must see him immediately, unless..." 

The pained look on her face must have spoken well to Bilbo, for his face fell as well. A fear stirred in her belly, imagining her brother dying on the battlefield. But there were many, she would not have noticed him even if she had stepped directly over his body. Sternly, she reminded herself that none of the Dwarves would let their King lie forever on a battlefield. Still she feared, and she was pulled out of her own when the hobbit touched her arm. 

"... but the healers said that it might be best to leave him alone?" The words peaked her interest, and she reached out to grasp his shoulders (partly to steady herself). "And Óin definitely said that it was the best for his healing. I'm sorry, I don't know why you want to see him but I don't think," his speech was hurried, though she caught Óin's name and that was enough.

"Is Óin with him now?"

"I, I don't know, I have not been up there recently," Bilbo seemed to be growing more nervous as she held his shoulders tighter. But Dís was distracted, thoughts whirling around in her head. That was one of three, not what she completely desired but if Thorin was alive, healing... She let go of his shoulders, turning on her heels. 

"Dís, I am the daughter of Thrain son of Thror," her mouth tightened as she thought of her father and grandfather, but only briefly. There was far too much else to be bothered with than mourning old losses. "Sister of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Oh," he breathed, but she did not turn around again to see the look on his face. She was no longer curious, more that if he was so amazed at that, perhaps Bilbo would take her to her brother already. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, please."

-

Óin did not look up at all until she had come through, until she stood beside Thorin's bedside and ran her fingers over his forehead. Then, the elder Dwarf looked up, eyes watching her for a long while. It seemed an hour before he even made any move to do anything, though he did not stop her from doting slightly on the unconscious King.

"Aye," he said when she asked him if it was bad. "He obtained many wounds, afraid he wouldn't last more than a few hours. He thought so as well, made his goodbyes to everyone he could," though it was subtle, Óin's eyes lingered on Bilbo, who hid in the corner of the room. "And he would be furious, but the Elves were the ones who saved him. Aye, not sure how I feel about it either, Dís, but he is alive here, you can see. Only Mahal knows if he'll wake from it."

"He was on his deathbed?" Dís frowned, stopping the stroking of his hair. Here, and now, she had assumed his wounds had been terrible, but not such. 

Though Óin did not answer her, the silence that seemed to take over the room seemed enough. Dís gave a slow nod, her hands dropped back to her side, though not before she ran a hand over his face. When he woke, he would not be happy to learn that his survival was on an Elf, and though she did not have as much anger Dís was not sure on positive feelings from her side either. "I would be informed immediately when he wakes."

It was not ideal, not in the least, but she was here and Thorin was alive, so all that mattered was waiting. For the moment, she needed out of the room, it was stifling to her and she could not find it in herself to stay any longer than knowing he was there. "Master Baggins," she said, not looking his way as she left the room. "Come with me again."

"Right, yes," but even as he said, he lingered until Dís was halfway down the hall and then he was beside her. 

"I do not expect you to tell me much, hobbit, though I would be happy if you could tell me about the battle," she cast her eyes aside to him. Bilbo was not much smaller than her, as she had noticed earlier, but he was still shorter than her and she could not begin to imagine him trying to steal a single thing. "And my sons," Dís added quickly, before she tried to take them back.

Then, it seemed that something clicked in the hobbit's mind, as he paused and stared at her in a curious way. To her, there was no time to pause and wonder at Erebor, for now she had to seek out Dáin again and tell him of her brother's state, possibly of her own sons if she could learn anything. About to scold him up to her side, Bilbo blinked and then heaved a relieved sigh as he caught back up to her.

"I didn't realize you were," again, he began to fidget with whatever he hid in his pocket. "Fíli and Kíli's mother."

"Yes," she said sharply. 

"Unfortunately, I really do not know much about the battle. I was knocked out for most of it, but as you can see, this side was successful. Gandalf told me," Dís didn't know who Gandalf was but she brushed it to the back of her mind. Questions for later, as there were more pressing issues at her hand. "He told me that the orcs were completely wiped out. That is mostly what I know," Bilbo hastened to continue, perhaps fearful she would attempt to interrupt him. "And Fíli and Kíli were wounded, greatly, but they're fine! Now, I mean, as they've been healed thoroughly. Fíli's been acting as King, until Thorin wakes."

To anyone else, it may have looked as though she slumped over on the hobbit but in truth, Dís had felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. Her sons, reckless Kíli and Fíli, were alive, well, and taking responsibility for what they could. Pride swelled in her chest, creeping out to her fingers. Even then, however, the weight of all her fears being swept up so easily seemed shocking and she did actually slump her shoulders, press her hands to her mouth before the cry actually sounded. Bilbo let out a small, concerned noise as she did appear to be crying now. Oh, Mahal, she had thought she'd be coming into a world of death, of mourning but here she was, her sons living, her brother, her _stupid_ brother, alive. 

Thorin was getting an earful when he woke up.

"You do not have to," she said, voice thick with tears. In fact, through her happiness had to restart quite a few times for coherent words. "You do not have to take me, but I would be happily in debt in to you, if, if you brought me to my sons."

It appeared to be a simple request, for Bilbo gave a small nod and then said something about how he didn't really see why she would think it was cause for debts. She could forgive him, for he appeared young and likely did not have such family as sons to worry over. That was good, he did not have to lose or fear loss.

As they walked, Dís tilted her head back. Erebor, despite its general wrecked state, caught her eye at every turn. She could not remember the halls well enough, though her hobbit guide had a good knowledge of them based on how easily he turned corners. After a moment, he slowed down and looked up at her. Dís, to him, looked a picture of royalty should look like (Bilbo knew little of how adorned in gold and such Dwarves were, but she did look still grand amongst her people without it) and she held her hands together tightly as they walked. In her, he could see much of Thorin, from her hair and beard, which nearly seemed to sprout from a strong jaw line. But as well, there were bits that reflected in Kíli and Fíli, Kíli in his coloring and Fíli had his mother's brow and eyes. 

When she caught him staring at her, he fumbled and said, "Well, just so you know, Fíli and Kíli were not bad on the journey. Quite responsible for themselves, and each other."

"If you are trying to reassure me or hide any mistakes of my sons," she said, a chuckle blooming down in her abdomen. "You need not, for I know my boys well enough. Much of the Company would eagerly call them pains to my face."

Bilbo flustered, tucked his hands into his pockets and made somewhat awkward noises before pausing outside an ajar door. The sound of voices rose and she caught Fíli's distinct tone, then a voice she did not recognize. But Fíli, hearing him had caught her off guard and she pressed a hand to her mouth, smothering a surprised sob. Seeing him would be ten times harder.

At that, the hobbit looked at her. Voice hushed, he gestured her to stand closer to him, "Accordingly, the throne room was completely devastated by Smaug. They've been using a wide room for meetings, mostly, unless they meet out at the gates. That seems more regular, but Kíli insisted on this meeting happening inside Erebor." The voices were growing louder, though Fíli did not sound angry and was likely just trying to match the volume of his arguer. "We probably shouldn't interrupt."

No argument there, she would not interrupt any type of important meeting, not even to embrace her sons. 

Once it finally ended (hours, the meeting had taken hours!), she was grateful to un-crouch from her position and as she stretched her legs slightly, the door opened. An Elf regarded them as they stood there, arching one of his eyebrows up as he turned to regard them. Well, she assumed it was a he. His hair cascade down his back, shockingly white and he shifted slightly, away from her. 

"Hello, Legolas," Bilbo greeted from behind her, taking one step out and flashing a smile in the Elf's direction. Said Elf relaxed his shoulders, murmured a greeting and then turned, disappearing down the hall that would lead him out of the mountain. She wanted to say something, but the hobbit cleared his throat. "No doubt, your sons are waiting for you, Lady Dís."

"It would be easier if you went in first, Master Baggins, please," she hefted a sigh when, despite his confused look, he turned and stepped into the room. There was an excited shout of "Bilbo!" 

Carefully, as quietly as she could, Dís turned the corner into the room and paused in the doorway to marvel at the sight before her.

Her eldest son, hair pulled back in various braids that probably took hours and help from Kíli, looked like he had just relaxed his shoulders. The way he was dressed, in clothes of royalty and armor that had likely been picked up from Erebor, and his hair braided in such a way, that he looked startlingly like Víli. Too much, and she had to lean against the doorway, shift her eyes to Kíli. He was dressed far more casually, eyes wide as he exclaimed excitedly at the small hobbit before him. The two were so alive, she could barely believe it. But the things that she had ignored before came to her now. Kíli leaned heavily on Bilbo, on his right, like he couldn't fully support himself on that side. Fíli's arm was slung, but it did not distract from how kingly he appeared. 

Breathing out, she stepped into the room fully. "Look at you," Dís said, coming forward slowly toward her sons.

Kíli still leant against Bilbo, but he fumbled suddenly when he saw her and in a moment, the Dwarrowdam smothered herself into her son's locks. His hands gripped the back of her shirt tightly, and it was like ages ago, when their father had not returned but Kíli had been too young to understand why, just that his mother would not stop crying and his uncle locked himself away for a while. Fíli had better understanding of the event. A moment later, she felt an arm wrap around her, a kiss pressed into her hair and the word, " _'Amad,"_ murmured softly into her ear. Kíli repeated it, softer as he cried into her beard. Oh, her boys, her boys they were alive. Many Dwarves did not cry so openly, certainly not in front of anyone they were not close to but there was not time for her or her sons to act cold-hearted. Slowly, she let go of them but Kíli clung to her, leaning heavily on her. Something was wrong with his leg, she would ask later. Her attention drew back to Bilbo. 

He gave them all a sad smile, as if watching the reunion of mother and sons made him happy as the. How odd. 

Kíli piped up then. "I see you met our Master Burglar!" His smile widened when the hobbit flustered, protesting being called a burglar. She really did have to wonder why he took such offense to the title, especially if it had been at the service of the Durin line. "Don't listen to his denying. Bilbo here, he snuck past Smaug! He's the only reason we made it into Erebor." 

At that, the hobbit turned red while Fíli chuckled, nodding along with his brother's statement.

"And the reason we have ongoing treaties with the Elves and Men," he added, watching as Bilbo nodded to that with agreement. "I know Uncle would not approve of them, but we need all the help we can take. The injured are too many and the Men were willing to send supplies for a while, after talking to Bilbo."

"Bard didn't have a problem with you or Kíli, you know," Bilbo said, wringing his wrists as the attention turned to him. The dwarflings shrugged their shoulders together. 

-

The Princess learned much about Hobbits and the Quest in the weeks it took Thorin to wake. 

Hobbits eat seven times a day. When she gapes at this, Bombur laughs and then says that he would not mind if they adopted Bilbo's style of eating. At that, the hobbit had smiled slightly into the soup he was not really eating. That was another thing, and it bothered her. When he'd left, she turned to questioning the dwarves that had seen him do it.

"Is that frequent?" Dís asked around a spoonful of the soup. It wasn't bad, but not all that appetizing either, still it was food. 

"Aye," Bofur said, frowning together with Bombur. "Thought it odd at first, y'know? Bilbo came into the Company talkin' about all the meals he ate every day, kept trying to make us stop for things like tea and 'elevenses' but Thorin refused all of it. We didn't have much food toward the end of this, and he complained from time to time. After the battle, he just," Bofur frowned deeply, gesturing in confusion. "Stopped? Wouldn't eat more than a bite and now he's not doing much but stirring what we give him to eat."

This gave way to some of her suspicions, but for now Dís frowned and nodded slowly. There were other things to know now, other matters to be addressed before Thorin awoke. 

For instance, learning that her sons had been left in Laketown, where the dragon attacked, because Kíli had been shot with an arrow. Oh no, she had not been happy when she had learned. Thorin's earful of words had driven up severely. They could have been killed there! And had he not tried to take care of his sister-son? From what she had been told, Óin and Bofur had been there with him, but it mattered not because he had not done anything himself. The next tidbit of information surrounding that had not pleased her either.

An Elf named Tauriel had healed him, and the main reason that Fíli had allowed the help from Elves seemed to come from this. Along with Bilbo's words, but obviously what had happened then influenced many of the younger Dwarrow's opinions on Elves. Thorin wouldn't be happy, but some of Dís' actions had resulted in knowledge that it would make him angry when he woke up.

Three weeks after she had arrived, things were slowly falling in place at Erebor. Fíli had taken on duties as king easily, but was just as well to have his mother there at his side to help. She took care of many things but he still handled the meetings with Elf and Men. And the hobbit seemingly fell into place among the Dwarves, blending in at times but both her sons tended to keep him at their sides. That was, when he was not seated beside Thorin's bedside, a book in his hand. She knew he couldn't read their language, but when she'd inquired, Balin and Óin had both agreed it was likely a comfort than actual reading. 

His constant seating at her brother's side had made her more curious, and more suspicious. Why? 

What had happened?

And three weeks after she arrived, Ori came running down the hall at her. She had to take a step back, as to not be run over by the young Dwarrow when he finally stopped, leaning onto his knees to catch his breath for a moment. Dís simply stared at him in amusement, before he stood up and tucked a journal under his arm.

"Thorin's awake, Lady Dís!"

By the time she'd burst through the door, many of the dwarves were running back and forth. Word had spread quickly, but she had a feeling that she had been the first to be quickly informed. Her eyes went around the room, assessing. Thorin was propped up in the bed by one of his arms, Óin looking him over and asking him too many questions based on the look upon his face, and other than that, she didn't spot anyone right away. As she closed the door, her eyes caught on Bilbo, standing on the other side of the bed and picking nervously at his sleeves. 

"Thorin," she snagged his attention away from the healer, eyes narrowing when he frowned at her. 

"Dís," he started but he got no word out other than her name. Striding forward, pushing Bilbo out of her way, Dís reeled her arm back and slammed her fist into Thorin's jaw. His arm slipped out from him, falling back on the bed in surprise while Óin and Bilbo let out simultaneous shocked noises. After some scolding on the dwarf's part, she was left alone with Bilbo and Thorin, who was currently rubbing where she'd punched him and sending his sister angered looks. 

"What was that for?" He snapped, dropping his hand.

"You! Thorin Oakenshield," she snarled, leaning over the bed to hold a glare with him. Neither backed down and she grabbed a hold of his shirt, tugging him close. "You took my sons from me, they could have died at any point in this journey! And now I hear that you left them in Laketown, where the dragon attacked! What would have you done if they had been killed there? Would you have even cared? Or are you too concerned with taking back Erebor to not see that Kíli almost died?" Her voice had risen, to the point where she yelled straight into his face. Thorin winced, his face falling into a regretful expression. Finally, she let go off his shirt and he kept himself propped up as he covered his face.

"I'm sorry," Thorin mustered, but she shook her head and turned away from him. " _Dís_."

"I will not accept an apology from you, before you apologize to Fíli and Kíli. Fíli has been looking after Erebor and our people with my aid, once I arrived. Despite your selfish tendencies, they love you dearly," her voice softened, though Dís' gaze stayed hard on the wall. 

Eventually, she turned around again. Thorin had slumped back into the pillows, eyes closed and a pained look on his face. "Then send them," he said. "I didn't," Thorin swallowed, placing a hand on his forehead. "I did not even think of it. When I did it, Dís, I did not realize what was happening."

"You know now, so change it!" 

Thorin nodded slowly, hands rubbing at his face for a few moments before he slowly dragged his body into a sitting position. She thought of the Elves and Men working on healing and helping, of the Dwarves restoring parts of Erebor. All of that information could wait for him. 

Bilbo shifted, accidentally making noise when he did and the King's head snapped up to look at him in surprise. How he hadn't registered the hobbit beforehand puzzled her, but then it seemed that hobbits had good luck with hiding and not being noticed if they did not wish to. Now, he looked like he'd been caught with his fingers around a dagger, like her sons. 

At seeing the hobbit, Thorin's face went from looking like he was trying to ignore the pain into a completely guilty look. There was a pause, and time seemed to stretch between the hobbit and King. Slowly, extremely slowly, a realization hit Dís fully. It would be an embarrassment later on, when Dwalin said she took longer than he did to figure it out, but now, in this moment it seemed to hit her like a falling rock. 

The exact look on her brother's face was not one she had seen before, guilt mostly (admittedly, she had seen the guilt on his face before, when he came back without her husband, when he'd come back without their brother and grandfather, for Thorin had then blamed himself for many of their losses) but it was laced with another emotion. She had carried that emotion on her face fully before, when she'd first met Víli. Her brothers had teased her, saying how _unfair_ it was that their little sister found her One before either of them. Thorin looked at Bilbo with a tenderness that Dwarrows only used for their One, despite the guilt that masked most of it, Dís was not blind and caught it after a moment of staring at him. 

Bilbo's gaze similar, though with less guilt (in fact, the amount of guilt that was in her brother's face seemed replaced by a look of hurt mixed with the same tender expression) and her eyes widened in surprise. Of course, of course, it made sense now. The concern of the hobbit not eating, his constant sitting at Thorin's bedside. 

Just as she opened her mouth to excuse herself, the hobbit twisted and stumbled, pushing past her and running out of the room with little more than a noise. 

"What," she started but was interrupted as Thorin snapped, "Do not, Dís. Not now."

**Author's Note:**

> And to anyone who has commented/kudo'd the previous fic to this: THANK YOU ;o; seriously I thrive on positive comments from readers 
> 
> in oooother news expect the prologue at least of the actual fic for this series SOON since I got a snow day and all I feel like doing is writing (also my tumblr is snowmissus so you can shoot me messages or watch me complain about writing and such lmao)


End file.
